Never Get to Know
by PlrtzGlrb
Summary: Literati. Oneshot. A conversation between Rory and Jess following Keg!Max! Rating for language.


**Disclaimer:** The song is Paul Baribeau's and the characters are ASP's. Nothing is mine.

**A/N:** Based on "Never Get to Know" by Paul Baribeau. If you've never heard any of Paul Baribeau's songs, fix it right now. You're on the internet. You have YouTube. I can wait.

Right, now you understand. Often when I see a story with song lyrics, I skim them or skip them, because a lot of authors force it. But this time, the song came before the story. I really recommend listening to it, just because it's so heartbreakingly beautiful.

This is a conversation that didn't happen. It takes place in the aftermath of _Keg! Max!_

* * *

><p>You might wonder why I'm an asshole<p>

Wonder I'm so uptight

Wonder why I just don't chill out

And learn how to have a good time

* * *

><p>"I thought you quit."<p>

Jess is leaning against the front porch railing. He's on his 4th consecutive cigarette. He's been standing there, looking out into the thin, dark layer of trees that surrounds the Gilmore household for god-know-how-many minutes, and his hands are shaking.

"I did."

She folds her arms protectively across her chest; the sleeves of her robe scrunch up around her elbows. A breeze rolls through, blowing some of the smoke in her direction and sending a wave of goosebumps up and down her cupcake-pajama-pant-clad legs. Without a word, she takes a seat on the steps and clutches her knees to her chest to keep herself warm.

He smokes, she sits. Both paralyzed in each other's presence. He really hadn't expected her to find him here. He hadn't even expected to come over, but his feet kept walking, and he didn't fight it.

Without warning, a sob wells up in her, and she lets it. She buries her face in her knees and lets it pour out silently. He can hear her breathe; it's erratic and he wants to make it stop. He knows it's all his fault. After a beat, he squashes his cigarette with his foot, tries to turn to look at her but stops short.

It doesn't go unnoticed.

"Sorry," she says, and she uses the sleeve of her robe to wipe away the tears.

"For what?" He says. He's genuinely confused.

"For getting all weepy like this. I shouldn't."

"Don't be sorry."

He speaks in measured strokes, careful not to admit too much. "If anyone…should be sorry…" Honesty feels foreign in his mouth. "It should be me." She shifts her gaze from her own feet to his. "I fucked up."

"Well, yeah."

He's about to get defensive, but he stops himself.

"Sorry," she says.

"Stop apologizing."

"Sorry." She smiles sadly. If the situation were different, he may have laughed, and he reminds himself that she's probably the only person on this planet that can make him do that. Laugh like he isn't Jess "Daddy Issues" Mariano.

* * *

><p>I'll never get to know my dad<p>

Because my dad lives in a dream

And even though I think he's the best

He seems so far from everything

* * *

><p>She continues to stare at his shoes. If she looks away, the conversation will end, and she's not ready for that to happen. If she makes eye contact, he'll squirm, and the conversation will end. She's <em>really<em> not ready for that to happen. It's a balancing act. Neither can speak, but there's so much left to say. So she stares at his shoes.

He shoves his hands in his pockets after deciding against a 5th cigarette.

She finally speaks up. "Do you care about me? At all?"

Is that even a question? "Of _cou_rse."

"Then talk to me."

A beat. "It's not that easy."

"Make it that easy." She finally looks at his face.

"What do you want me to say, Rory? That I'm sorry about the party? That I'm graduating from high school? That I'm not a _complete_ and _total_ screw up? Because I can't do that, Rory. I can't."

She breaks eye contact. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Shit," he says under his breath.

"You could have just told me." She sounds bitter.

"About what?" And he's annoyed.

"About school."

"Like hell I could have."

Eye contact again. "Just because I care about school doesn't mean you have to. I mean, I don't understand _why_ you never tried. You could be Valedictorian if you felt like it, but it's not like I don't know that. There's no GPA requirement, Jess, you're my boyfriend."

"Oh please. You and I both know that a few months from now you'll be off at Yale surrounded by a million guys who are smarter and richer and a hell of a lot better for you than me."

"Do you honestly believe that?" she said indignantly.

No response.

"Get over yourself. I go to Chilton now. I know guys like that. They're smart, and they're rich, and they're good looking, sure, but they're all jerks, and they haven't read _Howl _ 40 times or, or taken me to see the Distillers live or fixed toasters or brought me care packages."

Still no response.

"And even if they did do those things, it wouldn't matter, because you're still smarter and funnier and better looking, and you _know_ I don't care about money."

"Rory, stop." He cuts her off.

"What?"

"I get it."

"Well, what exactly is it that you get?"

"You think that somehow, despite all the shit that I've done and all the shit that I've gone through and all of the _shit _I've put you through, that I somehow deserve to be with you."

"Yes."

"That's bullshit."

"Then tell me why, Jess. I'm tired of guessing. You keep insinuating that you've got this whole, huge dark past, but you've never bothered to fill me in."

"I told you, it's not that easy." His voice is strained.

"Of course it's not." Hers is gentle.

"Does it matter?"

"It matters that you're honest with me. If matters that you feel like you can be."

"Do you want to know the truth?"

She takes a meaningful breath and nods her head firmly. "Yes."

He flexes his jaw and lets out a bitter laugh. "Reader's Digest version okay with you?"

She shrugs, and for the first time, the gravity of what's about to be said hits her. She's a little bit afraid.

"You are the _only_ good thing that has _ever_ happened to me," he starts. His voice is ragged and sharp. She's about to protest, but he continues, "Don't give me that look. I mean it. My dad flaked out, my mom is a fucking alcoholic who jumps from one abusive relationship to the next, the only friends I had back in New York are all probably in jail right now." Deep breath. "I probably would be, too, if Liz hadn't shipped me off. This is it, Rory."

* * *

><p>I'll never get to know my friend Steven<p>

He thought he found an answer

He was my friend since kindergarden

And then I watched him disappear.

And I'll never get to know my mom

Because my mom is an alcoholic

And I bet when she was young

She never saw it coming

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry," she says quietly, almost inaudibly.<p>

"And I don't have anything to offer you. Don't you get that?"

"Oh, shut _up_!" She stands up finally and takes a few steps toward him. "Stop telling me what I deserve. I'm sick of people telling me what I deserve. Everybody thinks I'm just this fragile little girl with no brain and no judgement. And all I do all day is read and listen, and I absorb everything. I'm not stupid."

"I never said that you were-"

"I know, but that's not the point. The point is that I need you to trust that I can make my own decisions, even the ones that have to do with you."

"Okay."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Thank you."

Crossed arms, hands in pockets, averted gazes. They're getting good at this.

"I'm sorry." This time, it's Jess talking, albeit quietly.

"I know."

It's on the tips of their tongues. The urge to just _say it already_ and get it over with. Instead, he just says, "Come here," and he pulls her to his chest. She buries her head in his neck, and they hold on to each other for dear life.

* * *

><p>Sometimes I'm scared right out of my mind<p>

And sometimes I just get angry

Because I've been let down by the people that I love

But I will not let down the people who love me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Reviews are really, really appreciated. Seriously, even if you have nothing to say, a simple "Hey I read this lol" would be nice. Thanks a bunch.


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